“Say, Winter, what’s the secret to happiness?” She didn’t turn around, but I could see from the way her shawl moved that her head turned. The flames in the fireplace crackled in protest at the cold strength of her gaze. “Winter!” I chided.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, turning back to look outside the window. “Why are you asking me?”

I placed a bookmark into the book I was reading and closed it before replying. “Well, it seems that whenever you come around, the people are happier.”

A moment passed. Then two. Just as the silence became almost unbearable, she replied, “In the past, I think it was because people were ready to enjoy the fruits of their harvest. And then it became a festival, because the cold days can be so dreary. It became a tradition, until now.”

I frowned. “A tradition to be…happy? That’s a weird thought.”

“You asked a weird question,” she replied.

The flames crackled again and I shivered despite sitting almost in front of the fireplace. “Are you cold?” I asked Winter.

The shawl fluttered a bit and so did the air in the room, but she turned away. “No,” she finally replied.

“Do you even get cold?” I asked.

“No.”

“That must be nice,” I mused, stoking the coals. Despite the flames, her presence made the room feel like I was inside of an icebox.

Outside the window she was looking at, the setting sun’s lights were replaced by the red and green glints of decoration.

I noticed that the window was frosting over, so I said, “You’re frosting the window again, Winter.”

She scooted backwards hastily. “I mean, not that it matters,” I went on hurriedly, “It’s just frost. It’s not like -“

But then, the window shattered with a clash, and the room’s warmth, or what remained of it, was sucked out into the night sky.

Winter hopped to her feet even as the fire choked and died, and I could only sigh in exasperation.

“Don’t move, Winter. Broken glass.”

I got up to grab the broom, hopping on my feet in a vain attempt to get my body’s circulation running. Upon returning, I thought the window was repaired.

But the glass was still on the floor.

I looked at Winter with a raised eyebrow. “It’s ice. Transparent. Will it do?” she explained.

I shrugged and began clearing the floor of glass. “Don’t move around too much. How many times have I told you to wear proper clothing?” I said mechanically, trying to focus on the glass shards that lay next to her feet.

“I’ll call for some window repair services in the morning.”

I finished cleaning up the glass and came back to the room, which was colder than before.

Shivering, I knelt next to the fireplace and tried to relight the flames.

But they refused to be lit, and then I realized that Winter was standing behind me, watching me. “Winter, stop.”

She retreated back to the ice window and looked away, and I attempted several more times. But nothing happened despite everything being dry and flammable. I briefly wondered if it was because my fingers were shivering.

But then I quelled the thought. She can’t help being who she is.

I hopped to my feet and tried to rub some warmth back into my hands.

But the cold was permeating everything and it felt like I would never be warm again. Wondering if it was unseemly to begin jogging in place, I looked up to see Winter approach me. Before I could say anything, she hugged me.

The strength of her coldness almost made me yelp, but I held it down. Teeth chattering at this point, I asked her, “W-w-w-winter. Wh-wh-a-t are you d-d-d-oing?”

She looked at me for the first time tonight, her face pale and devoid of color. “I learned this watching other humans. When you’re cold, you huddle together to create warmth, yes?”

My mind sought for an out without offending one of the Seasons, and all I could think of was, “Y-y-y-ou kn-kn-know, in the-the-the South… the-the-the Southern He-hehe-hemisphere, it-it-it’s warm ri-ri-right now.”

But she raised her eyebrows. “It is? But…it’s my time right now.”

“Ye-ye-yes. B-b-b-b-but, I thi-think, like ha-ha-ha-happiness, you-you-you hafta fi-f-f-f-f-f-ind the w-w-w-warmth wh-when you n-n-n-n-need it.”

And then everything changed in the room. The logs roared into flames and the temperature immediately changed. I relaxed myself without thinking and collapsed back into my chair, bringing her full weight on to me.

I looked at Winter again, wide-eyed with surprised. She was no longer pale and devoid of color, but rosy-cheeked and full of life. I then averted my eyes, because she was still only covered in a shawl.

“You know, it’s been so long since someone’s reminded me of that. It seems I’ve forgotten.” her voice was a warm summer breeze as it drifted into my ear. I started, looking at her again. Her face was too close.

“Winter…?”

“Yes, that’s me,” she said, edging closer to me, getting far too close for comfort. The heat of the room was almost unbearable at this point as I began sweating in my heavy clothes.

“You know,” she purred, “My, ah, southern hemisphere is quite warm right now.”

But then the heat was sucked out of the room again. I looked over immediately. The window made of ice had melted in the heat.

I jumped up, trying to avoid the situation.

“I don’t suppose you can fix that again?”

I felt the fiery heat of her presence behind me before I even felt her touch my back gently. “Not as I am right now, no.”

As I mentally categorized the items in the house and wondered if I should just saran wrap the broken window for the night, she hugged me again.

“You’re worried because of the cold right? Don’t worry then. I’ll be able to keep you warm.”

I thought about it for a moment, then relented. With how much heat she was emitting, I knew there was no danger of the cold.

But before I could say anything, Winter kissed me softly on the lips. “I think I understand why humans celebrated whenever I came around. Because it was during this time that they were more willing to be close.”

“Is that … happiness?” I asked, dazed at the gesture.

She pulled my hand down to her hips so I could feel the warmth of her body. “We should find out.”